Alpha
by Nomad Leonor
Summary: The war is over, Voldemort has triumphed. But he has a plan, one involving Hermione Granger. With her entire perspective on reality changing by the moment, will she give in? Alpha, this is only the beginning...
1. This is Alpha

**Disclaimer: Nothing affiliated with Harry Potter is mine, which is just about everything. I only own the characters, fanfiction plot, and some fictional spaces. Though nobody will actually attempt to sue me as I am writing on "fanficton".**

**A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I'm planning on it being a short story, objective and not with too many chapters but we'll see. I don't know how often I can write/upload since I have exams and what not. But I promise to try a weekly thing at least. I'll also try to keep the characters on point, but no promises. This is meant to have a sequel, but we'll see if I'm up for writing it once I finish this. yadda yadda, hope you enjoy and review (:**

**P.S.- Don't get mad at the story on the first chapter, nothing is as it seems, just a warning they'll be twists. (:**

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><p><em>Ring around the rosie<em>

_A pocket full of posies_

_Ashes, Ashes,_

_We. All. Fall. Down..._

How did it get like this? How did she get here? It was never supposed to go this far, no one was supposed to get this hurt, well at least, she wasn't. Her little girl now, oh her little girl. Tears drooped down her cream colored face and her knees felt weak. It was all such a blur, the past events, the moments, the sacrifices, the fight. Oh what to do now, how to live!

Maybe it would be better if she told the story from the beginning, or was it already the middle by the time she realized it had begun? No matter, the reader should know from the beginning that this is not a very light or happy story. It contains moments of hardship and war and one who is sensible to such things, should in fact not read it. This is the story of small Hermione Granger in huge dark world...

There was darkness surrounding her, an insufferable darkness like an incessant night, she could see figures. Was that her? Why was she running? Who was chasing her? From within the unfathomable darkness a peak of alabaster flashed her eyes to the point where they began to burn, she fluttered them opened. The back of her head stung terribly, her fingers traveled to the enormous amount of hair that lay looking like a dead bush a top her head. Her finger came back wet, dripping in dark red.

Looking at her bruised body and taking in her surroundings Hermione tried to get up. Her side felt lacerated leaving her physically impaired sitting against the wall. Her usually honey colored hair was filled with dust and was viscous due to the blood in her scalp. Her body suffered cuts and bruises, she could remember being chased, taken, thrown in here. She looked around, how long had she been here? A month? Two, maybe? She felt the world spinning again and all was dark.

When she reopened her eyes he was there again, she felt a small sting in the back of her head but it was relieved by the wet cloth that cleared away the blood. She looked ahead, she wouldn't dare look up into his eyes, somehow she knew he wouldn't bother looking into her tear filled ones. Her bones were too fragile to move, she didn't even wince. His pale neck came into her line of view and she couldn't take her eyes away. His scent drifted up her nose, but again she didn't move. He pulled out his wand and touched it to her scalp healing her wound the same way he would every night. Something was different about tonight...

He took the wand to each of her cuts, scrapes, bruises and burns. Took his time healing each and every one, making sure nothing was left. Then he put his wand away, grabbing her frail arm and pulling her anorexic body off the floor. She tried to stand, although the pain was gone she was still too weak to move. He picked her up off the floor and into his arms, she gathered the courage to look at his face and it was the last thing she saw as he whispered something to her and she knocked out.

–

There was music playing somewhere far away, a sweet melody, one she had heard somewhere when she was a child, a ballet tune, it drifted into her dream. She felt warm and comfortable, she sunk lower into the covers without opening her eyes, the soft feathered mattress comforted her and the blankets soothed her. How long had it been since she had felt this comfortable sleeping, not since before the war had begun. Her eyes fluttered opened. The war!

She looked around at her surroundings. There wasn't anything about this room she recognized. Not the colossal wooden bed embellished with carvings of the _Fleur-des-Lys, _nor the ivory covers over it, not the rocking chair in the corner or the window seat on the other side of the wall. She didn't recognize the mirror and vanity table in front of the bed and she definitely didn't recognize the closet filled with perplexing clothes that she could see from where she was.

There was something she recognized in this room though, he was leaning on the doorway, his pale blonde head looked at her with frozen eyes. Not cold, just frozen, empty of emotion. He moved closer to her and handed his hand for her to take. She did not want to take it, but her body won over her mind. Months of physical torture and exhaustion had stopped her from fighting back. She had rationalized it all, if she was still alive then they must need her for something, all that was left was figuring out what it was.

Draco Malfoy helped her get off the bed and place her bare feet over a thick fur carpet that was on the floor. She had a white gown over her body, the kind she imagined they would make the other virgin's wear. That is, if the rumors were true. She surely hoped not. She was led by the pale cream hand to a table sitting in front of the room's window. She sat very still, making sure not to make any move that would anger him, that would cause him to beat her. Not that he ever had, he hadn't ever been in the same room as her when she suffered the excessive and monstrous torture that was a daily routine. No, Malfoy would only show up hours later ready to heal the deepest wounds, but never the most shallow ones...that is until last night.

He fed her porridge, helping her by taking small amounts to her mouth and waiting silently as she chewed and swallowed. The warmth was entrancing for Hermione, she hadn't had a warm meal in so long, in fact she couldn't remember the last time she had a meal. Certainly long before she had gone into hiding, before they had captured her, before no one came looking for her. Tears swelled up in her eyes. Malfoy sat staring at her without moving a muscle. He stood and picked up a tissue, their hands brushed for a moment as he gave it to her. She didn't know whether to thank him or not. She didn't understand.

Wiping her tears away she observed him. He seemed restless, awake, like he hadn't slept in days. Like something was disturbing him gravely. She picked up her spoon and continued to take small bites, she was so hungry but her body didn't allow her the pleasure of eating a whole meal, not without regurgitating it later.

Malfoy stood near the table, making her feel insufferably smaller, like an unprotected child just sitting there. He took a deep breath and stared at the bright summer day on the outside. Hermione died a little inside, how could such a beautiful day be so dark?

"You should know," said Malfoy, placing his hand on the table, "the war is...over. There's no one left. Not from your side. This should not be a sad day for you. No one came looking, no one even tried and now they're dead. You, Granger, are the only muggle-born alive that's free, or as free as you're ever going to get. There are muggles, but they'll be rounded up soon. Everyone who is resisting is...it's over."

Hermione sat silent for a moment. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears left in her. It was all just a dark shadow hanging over her. The sound of ghastly drums sounded off in the distance. Hermione looked out into the vast valley that stood outside the widow. An enormous black shadow of cloaks swept the green of the valley as the drums thundered harder. In the years after the war had started she would have nightmares about those drums. Every time she heard them on the street followed by the siren that warned her to take cover she would hold her breath and pray to some upper power to end the madness. She would be answered with shadows...

"Why am I still alive?" she whispered weakly. Malfoy turned around and stared at her. The dark circles under her translucent skin made him wince slightly.

"You still have a purpose here. Your time has not come yet," he affirmed as he placed his hand over his eyes, rubbing them. It was not to his pleasing that she was still alive she could see. She didn't blame him, she didn't want to live either. If no one was left, if there was no reason to fight, what good was living in this world. Why hadn't they given her the pleasure, the decency to kill her with dignity? Why must she live where everyone is gone? Why would they keep her alive?

Malfoy covered his mouth with is hand, almost as if he was pondering and yet felt disgusted at the same time. Hermione looked down at her lap, her hands laying there almost as if there was no other place for them. She swallowed hard and closed her tired eyes. Malfoy walked to the closet and took something out, it was a dress, a white Greek goddess one. The neckline came from the thick straps that were the shoulders of the dress down to just under her breasts. Then it flowed softly to the ground, with a waist thick line that covered her abdominal, separating the top part of the dress from the bottom. The dress was long enough to have covered her feet.

"You will be attending a ceremony tonight," Malfoy said placing the dress on the bed. He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it, placing it in front of her, he continued, "those belonged to a queen once." Hermione stared at the necklace first, it had a quarter moon with it's arch facing up and in the middle a woman figurine with her arms outstretched to touch each side of the moon. The earrings were small diamonds. This could not be the ceremony she had heard about, that one was much more violent, they would not beautify the women.

"It is the first of it's kind, the ceremony I mean." He was constantly looking down, almost as if he were scared or even ashamed of looking at her. "Don't mess it up," he declared. With that he strutted out of the room and closed the door behind him. Hermione sat for a while looking down. She did not know what to think at the time. She felt so lost and alone, oh to be a bird and fly away, or maybe the answer was just letting go. Maybe all she wanted to do was let go of this life that bounded her to this body which she felt was no longer hers.

Her thoughts did not consume her energy very long, for the next moment Bellatrix Lestrange entered with a small girl behind her. The girl had on nothing but a torn cloth. Bellatrix pushed her forward, Hermione stared at her tear stained face and frowned. Had she really just found something that sparked the tiniest bit of emotion after all these months in captivity?

"Her name's Diana, she's yours. She's one of you filthy things. Do with her what you wish, but don't let her go or she'll be killed." then the crazed haired lady spun on her heels and left. Diana wiped her face and walked toward the dress on the bed. She picked it up and handed it to Hermione to put on. Hermione pulled off her night gown and put on the the goddess dress, all the while looking with sad eyes to the young girl in front of her.

She couldn't be more than nine, her hair was dark black and her eyes were green like a deep pond, they held pain in them. Hermione couldn't understand why they were giving her a slave. Why they bothered, the young girl placed the necklace and earrings on a sitting Hermione and smiled. Then together they curled Hermione's hair, the muggle fashion, seeing as neither owned a wand.

Hermione looked at herself in the room's mirror, her collar bones stood out, she was so thin, in all her beauty. She did look beautiful though. Diana smiled roughly at her and Hermione couldn't help but to smile back as to assure her that everything would be alright. Somehow she felt the girl knew, knew that she too, was a slave.

Hermione walked into the closet and searched through the amount of clothes inside, rummaging until she found a nice pink dress that seemed casual and comfortable enough to walk around with all day. Hermione hoped this would work and so she whispered something at the dress that shrunk slightly. Hermione smiled and stared at her hand. How long had it been since she was able to do magic? Since the muggle-born registration commission didn't track her every move...

She handed the dress to Diana and told her to put it on. The young girl's green eyes widen as she couldn't believe that for once, since she had been in this household, she would get to put on something other than a rag. She quickly undressed leaving her small frame naked in front of Hermione, who could see scars similar to those she owned all over the girl's body. Anguish filled her body up and she turned around in order not to cry. She must not cry in front of Diana, she rationed. The dark-haired girl put on the pink dress and smiled, she hadn't felt this good since before the war. Maybe being assigned to Hermione wouldn't be so bad. After all Mistress Lestrange had said they were both muggle-borns, and something told Diana that Hermione was not standing in that house at her own free will.

The door burst open, it was Bellatrix again. She sneered at the pink dress that Diana was wearing and looked up at Hermione. She smiled.

"You look to the master's pleasing," she said careful not to compliment her. "Let's go, follow me. Diana, stay close behind" and with that she whirled around and almost floated towards the door. Her cloak bellowing behind her steps.

Hermione followed her close behind, lifting her gown up slightly so she could climb down the stairs. She was led to a wide hall filled with antique furniture. A large portrait of a young Tom Riddle hung on the wall. There were other empty portraits lined up next to it, like you would see in a royal family's house, except instead of the family line, there was only one portrait filled in.

She stared at the huge oak doors that stood in front of her. Her heart thumped slowly against her chest as her breathing heightened without making a sound...and then the doors opened and a burst of light blinded her eyes.

Hermione only remembered standing inside the circle room, never how she went in. Diana was standing in a far corner, cloaks and masks stood all around her in a circle and at the top of it was a high chair where a huge cloaked man sat. Hermione didn't need to ask who it was, she just stood and stared. The man stood up and walked towards her slowly. His hands traveled to the hood of the cloak and pulled it off. Hermione held her gasp.

The man under the cloak was not Lord Voldemort, or at least not the one she had been used to seeing. No, the man under the cloak was a very handsome Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Welcome," he said with a cunning sneer. "I hope you have enjoyed your stay so far," he teased; "You do look quite...well" he said moving closer and touching her face with his wand. Hermione didn't flinch. Riddle smirked. Turning his back on her and walking back to his chair she continued,

"You're probably wondering why you're here, Miss Granger," the name felt like venom in his mouth.

"Not as much as you'd believe," she answered strongly, she might have felt weak, but she was not going to play the part. It didn't seem to effect the leader of the world.

"No matter, I'll explain either way," he said. Placing the wand on his temple he pulled out a string of memories, the greyish liquid solidified in front of the room. Everyone inside paused a moment and stared as the memory began to unfold.

It was Voldemort, Harry and Ron. They were standing face to face, wands drawn at the ready. Hermione gulped, then she heard Voldemort's voice.

"It's my final offer boys, kill the mud-blood's parents and I'll surrender, everything." Hermione could see him sneering at them.

"How can we trust you?" spoke Ron, oh Ron, how she missed him so.

"I brought you here and you're still alive aren't you?" Voldemort argued. "Gentlemen, I'm getting older, I have no time for silly games. It could be so simple, two mudbloods and the whole world would be safe from me. I'd go away and die silently, you'll be the heros. Besides considering the circumstances you're quite aware that I could kill you now and you'd win nothing." Ron and Harry looked at each other. Hermione could see her parent's sitting scared against a wall. _Don't do it! _She screamed inside her head.

Harry and Ron seemed to arguing about something, the discussion was getting heated, Voldemort was inspecting his nails. Hermione felt rage, pure anger like she had never felt before. How could they even _consider _such an offer. Her poor parents sitting there, fearing for their lives.

Harry and Ron had looked up, Voldemort continued with his sneer on his face. Then before Hermione had a chance to say "no!", she heard them whisper _"Avada Kedavra". _Harry and Ron looked down towards the floor. Draco Malfoy came into view suddenly, his wand was drawn, what was that look on his face, was that...disgust? Hermione couldn't think, all she saw was his wand being raised and the shot being sent towards Ron, who a second later was lying lifeless on the floor. Harry's eyes panicked he looked up at Voldemort.

"We made a deal," he yelled.

"I lied," Voldemort raised his wand and in the next moment Harry's lifeless body was lying next to Ron's. A strong sentiment hit Hermione in the gut but it wasn't sorrow, it was anger, pure outrage, acrimony, animosity, infuriation. She felt it build up inside of her like a force she couldn't control raging over her body, her mind was becoming blank, her insides burned with a wanting, a need, her body became numb.

Hermione's eyes turned black and her hair shot up almost as if hundreds of volts of electricity were running through it. Her arms spread wide, but she was not controlling them and a strong force ejected from her hands and was pushed forward towards the walls. The death eaters standing in the circle ducked as the force pushed against the stone walls and cracked them.

Voldemort grinned for the first time all night. He stared at Malfoy who nodded and pulled his hood away. He walked behind Hermione and held onto her waist with his strong arms. It was almost fatal. As if all the power that had been surging through Hermione's body was sucked out in an instant. All that was left was her limp body being held by his arms. Her eyes returned, her hair was perfection once more. She breathed.

"There you have it," admired Voldemort, "That is why you're still alive Miss Granger. You have a very powerful force within you, one that could do great things if incited correctly. Mr. Malfoy there is your counterpart. It is very peculiar, see judging by your backgrounds and personalities I assumed that Mr. Malfoy would be the one carrying such power and you would be his antidote. Hence why I've always kept such a close eye on him. It would seem it was my mistake, however. The moment I realized it, well I made sure you were brought to me."

Hermione didn't understand everything was hazy around her. The amount of power and energy she had just used was not something she was used to. She felt drained, almost as if Malfoy's touch left her weak, in every sense.

"Miss Granger, I wasn't lying when I said that I'm getting too old for this. It may seem to you like my ultimate goal is immortality but that seems a bit childish among all this, wouldn't you say? No, my plan is much bigger than that. I planned to cleanse the world of the filth in it. Contrary to your belief it was not blood I was talking about. It was morals.."

"What do you know about morals?" she interrupted angrily. Voldemort frowned, Draco slapped her hard enough to she fall on her knees.

"Don't interrupt me," Voldemort seethed. "Have you ever thought that maybe I didn't grow up amoral, you just grew up with the wrong morals? Did you ever question your own reality? Or were you just so willing to go against ours because it threatened yours? How are you so much better than us, Hermione Granger?" Voldemort's voice was soft and yet filled with rage. Hermione swallowed hard and grunted as she tried to get up.

"My plan is on the verge of fulfillment. I have gotten rid of those who poisoned the minds of my subjects and now I will destroy anyone who tries to oppose me. Mercy is given to those who deserve it, not those who sin amongst all others."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was as if everything was traveling and spinning faster and faster around her. This couldn't be true, what was worse was that he was getting inside her head. Had she really never questioned the so-called dark side? Had she never tried to look in their perspective but had always believed the biased opinion of those around her? It all seemed so possible now that she saw Harry and Ron give her own parents up as a Sacrifice.

"My reign won't continue for long, one day I will want to finally rest in peace. I am quite tired, you know?" he continued. "But to ensure that my work was not all in vain, I will need someone to follow me. A line that shall continue by birth right, for the magical power you have is inherited, you are not the first of your kind Hermione," the snake-like sound to her name gave her chills.

"You and Draco will be married and succeed me to the throne. You will then reproduce a heir, one so powerful, they will finish what I have started and ensure it never ends. The bond between the two of you can not be broken. It will be the most powerful in all it's blood line."

Hermione gulped and stared at Malfoy, who's face was emotionless as he stared far away.

"And if I refuse?" Hermione asked. Voldemort sneered, a round of laughter spread through the room.

"You don't have a choice," answered Malfoy, who took a thin silver band with a princess cut diamond on top and placed it on her left ring finger. A bright line shone and encircled Hermione and Draco.

"The bond has been cast," whispered Voldemort. "This is Alpha..."


	2. Beta

**A/N: First off, I know I suck for waiting months before posting this next chapter. A lot of circumstances made it so that I could not update, but I won't bore you all with those. Enjoy.**

_2 Months, 4 Days, 7 hours._

Hermione Granger still paced around the enormous Malfoy library and searched. With the astounding collection of books on the Dark Arts she imagined there would be something in here that would tell her how to break whatever spell had been cast on her and remove that infernal ring off of her finger.

No such luck.

She reasoned that it was highly unlikely she would find anything. No one had bothered her since that night, on the contrary, they had treated her quite well. She was fed and taken care of, she had Diana near her most of the time, though she seldom asked the young girl to do anything. She was allowed to spend the entire day in the library and only retrieve when she felt she needed sleep, that's when she didn't fall asleep near the fireplace surrounded by books. If there was such a book, as the one she searched for, they would not have permitted such a thing.

_It's pointless anyway._

There was no one there to run to later on. The evidence was crystal clear, there was no more Order, no more "good" guys. Just death eaters, just muggles being rounded up. News came into the manor everyday, she heard it whispered among the corridors. Besides, why would she want to run back to the same people who had sacrificed her parents to someone who would obviously lie. Did they really think it was that easy? And why had the Order never bothered to look for her?

Questions like those were no longer unusual in Hermione's mind and she found herself indulging in them more and more each day. She no longer cared, however, she could feel her body go numb, her mind sharpened however.

Draco Malfoy was well aware of this fact, for as Hermione immersed deeper within her mind and into these thoughts, a bright golden glow irradiated around her and Draco could feel a swelling in his chest. He didn't like it one bit, in fact he was almost prone to saying he hated it. However, he saw the great that could come from it, and more than anything, he had learned to follow orders.

It was on a bright Sunday morning that any relatively new events occurred. The sky was clear, the air was crisp and the leaves on the trees of the Manor Gardens had begun to turn colorful and eventually fall off the tree branches.

It was October, Hermione knew this from the large and strange looking grandfather clock that stood in the library. It not only displayed the time but announced, quite literally, the day and month of the year, but only when asked nicely. Hermione had learned this when one day she wondered out loud what day it was. It was also quite obvious that Hermione was the only one who could get the clock to speak up, a fact that annoyed Malfoy quite a bit whenever he came to visit. The clocks refusal to tell him the date only angered him more, engaging profanities and leaving the clock to shut itself into a small box that hung on the wall.

Hermione had given up her search in the library with a slight tangy feeling of regret. That morning she gave Diana permission to go about her business and do as she wished. The young girl, delighted with this news grabbed her gardening tools and set off to a hidden part of land where she could practice her one true love: Herbology.

Hermione dressed herself in jeans and and a stripped sweater, placed a scarf around her neck and a knitted hat on her head, then she herself headed outside and wandered about the gardens. There was quite a bit she didn't understand from it all. Mostly, how such dark times still produced such beautiful gardens, almost as if all of the natural beauties that she had admired as a child were ignoramus to all the events that happened around it. Natural life went on.

She had just sat in a stone bench admiring a plantation that now grew quite large pumpkins when a shadow covered her view. Hermione didn't need to turn around to see who it was standing beside her. The energy that she felt growing inside her more and more each day surged through her veins every time he came near.

"Malfoy," she piped.

"Granger" He retorted. Although Hermione's gaze never left the pumpkins she felt him slip onto the bench next to her and sudden warmth wrapped around her body. She had learned this was the effect they had on each other, the energy that now surged between them, thanks to the spell, heated their bodies in unexplainable ways.

"I've come to inform you," started Malfoy uneasily, "that your training is to begin soon." Hermione's mind screamed confusion, her frozen body displayed no such emotion.

"And what will I be training for?" she questioned, seemingly accepting her fate, whether that was true or not, Malfoy could not tell.

"Your powers," he said, "They're complex, and highly dangerous, to yourself, as much as others. If not trained they could pose serious risk to the plan, and even yourself." he explained.

Hermione nodded understandingly. Her stillness annoyed every inch of Malfoy's body but the tingly sensation that she left in his every tissue fought against his want to argue. He knew that if he got angry, the same reaction that had occurred to Hermione the night of the ceremony would happen to him, and that only she would be able to stop it with her touch. A deed Malfoy doubted Granger would do, as she probably wished nothing more than his death.

"Don't flatter yourself," Hermione answered almost as if she had read his thoughts. "I would worry about many other things before wishing your death, besides your death would be mine as well." Malfoy was left astounded for a few moments before he realized that she had practiced legimacy on him, the tingly feeling in his mind was not energy.

"I don't appreciate people poking around in my mind," he stated coldly.

"I don't appreciate anything about this situation, honestly" Hermione rebutted bluntly.

"Yes, because being married to you and having you be the mother of my children was on the top of my to do list." he scowled.

"Touche" Hermione answered. Malfoy was taken back, it was almost as if she had no want to fight with him. This worried him. Not because Hermione was obviously not acting herself, he could care less about that. But her powers worked solely on emotions, the stronger, the better. Hermione wasn't displaying any, controlling them to the last bit it was almost as if she had turned empathic.

Draco sighed, he'd have to report back to His Lord. For now, however, there was little he could do about Hermione's rejection of sentiments.

"Be ready at nine pm." He said, "There will be a trial tonight in the Ministry and the Dark Lord requests your presence. Dress nicely, I trust you have enough robes to choose from." Hermione's response was nothing but a nod, she felt cold air hit her body like a wave in the ocean. When she looked to the side, Malfoy was already gone.

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><p>Draco Malfoy climbed up the stairs with a determination he had not felt since his last mission. That had been over a year ago, now the Dark Lord wanted nothing more of him than to keep him safe for the throne. It was not that the dark side now possessed any sort of threat, but there had been rumors of certain rebellions about the country, Death Eaters that had now forgotten there place and wanted a bit more power than the hierarchy would allow them.<p>

Draco knew these rebellions were pointless for as soon as his mission with Granger was complete, their power would be unstoppable and their children's power even more so. Tonight however, other things worried his mind, those things all revolved around Hermione Granger and how much emotion she would let out.

The great oak doors of the throne room seemed more ominous today then any other that Draco could remember. As a child he had been told that this room was not to be entered, for one day it would serve the purpose for which it was created. Today, he knew what purpose that was.

He had no need to knock, for just a few seconds after he arrived at the door, they swung open and the torches that lined the stone walls invited him in. He walked calmly towards the high throne that stood roughly two meters in the air. The high chair was occupied by a handsome young man with dark hair. The slightly smaller chair was left unoccupied, it's resident not having gained the throne yet.

Draco Malfoy bowed down for a few instants and then looked his master in the eyes. He proceeded to inform him of his troubles and of what was the state of the Queen-to-be. Tom Marvolo Riddle's eyes glistened dangerously as he heard the news. His eyebrows furrowed and the mood within the throne room seem to darken.

The hooded figures that stood around the room held their breaths in anticipation of what was to come. There was little doubt that the atmosphere was taking a wrong turn, and all hell would break lose soon. Riddle's reaction however was one that surprised everyone in the room.

"Make her fall in love with you," he said, his voice was so serene that chills rippled up Draco's arms. Malfoy's face showed confusion, it had never been part of the plan to make Granger fall in love with him, this turn of events was not at all what he had anticipated.

"I beg your pardon, My Lord?" Malfoy tempted.

"What part of make her fall in love with you, did you not understand, Malfoy?" The Dark Lord's voice had become a hasty whisper that was barely audible. "We need her emotions for this plan to work, if she refuses to show hate, then awaken her love!" Although he did not scream, Malfoy understood the direct order that came from his master.

"Yes, My Lord," he answered, a wave of nausea hitting him like something he had never felt before.

"Now listen here, Draco," Riddle's voice seemed strangely kind, "There is more news that I must tell you. Listen closely..."

* * *

><p>Hermione stared at her choice of clothes, a simple black dress that was feminine enough to please whoever it was that had ordered her to look nice, but professional and solemn enough to be worn to a trial, especially one that Hermione was sure would reap of death.<p>

She had taken a hot shower, like she did everyday since she had been released up here, the scalding water felt like it ripped away all the pain, worries and regret that she tended to bottle up all day. They had yet to supply her with her wand, as Hermione imagined that they did not trust her very much yet, but she was allowed to do certain wandless magic. She used this to her advantage in order to blow dry her unruly hair.

She had quietly slipped into her dress, and was now struggling to close the zipper on the back of it when she felt warm hands grab her close and the zipper shut tight.

"You look lovely," she felt a whisper near her ear, the energy surging through her veins at a rapid speed did not lie, she knew too well who was cosying up to her and it did not leave her the tiniest bit comfortable. Hermione pulled away from Draco's arms and slipped on her robe.

"Thank you," she said plainly, turning around and facing him for the first time in weeks. Malfoy was just as handsome as he had been back in school, although traces of the war and his age deepened and lined his face. His body, she could tell was in good shape, although the black turtle neck and jeans he wore hid most of his figure. He had his cloak draping over his right arm. Hermione remembered to breath suddenly. Malfoy took no notice.

"Hermione," the way in which he said her name, made it obvious that it sounded strange in his mouth. None the less he continued his speech, "I've been thinking," he said. "We're stuck with this...mission, whether either of us likes it or not. We're going to have to live in matrimony for the rest of our lives. We might as well be civil towards each other."

Hermione stared at his face, almost as if analyzing it for a second. What he was asking for, made sense in theory, but there was no reason for Malfoy to want to be civil towards her. He could just as easily ignore her through their entire marriage and there wouldn't be an issue. He was feeling uneasy, being under her stare for such a long time.

"You can't impregnate me without my permission, can you?" she said, a sudden light flickering on in her mind. Malfoy's eyes didn't lie, his utter surprise in how quickly she had figured it out was transparent.

"No," he said, "But my decision to be civil towards you is completely besides that one detail," he said, swallowing hard.

"Then what is the basis of your sudden change of heart?" Hermione retorted sarcastically.

"You need to channel more emotions in order for your powers to work. If having someone to confide in and to make you feel comfortable will help you with that, than I see no problem being that person," his voice was calm as he pronounced the words slowly as if trying to get her maximum attention. Hermione's shoulders slumped for a bit.

"I don't think you're lying," she uttered unwillingly out-loud. Malfoy let out a soundless chuckle.

"Aside from what you may believe, Hermione, I have no need to lie to you. So I won't. It would be pointless, I would gain nothing from it, and neither would you."

A strange feeling swept over Hermione, she had never met anyone whom she had felt so honest about everything. It left her uneasy and unable to figure out how to react to any of the new information given to her. Luckily, Malfoy sensed this and found it was time to leave the heart-to-heart conversations behind. Placing his cloak on he offered her, his arm to take. As Hermione took it, she felt herself being pulled away from the ground and whirling through different dimension on her way to her destination. She only felt her body again when her feet hit sharply on stone ground.


	3. Gamma

**A/N: Felt like the last chapter was a complete underachiever, so I hope this one is even the tiniest bit better. Thank you for all your reviews, they're so kind. Enjoy.**

Hermione opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. The court room in the Ministry of Magic was all too familiar to her. This time however, she was looking at it in a new perspective. Letting Malfoy lead her on to their seats, on the right side of Riddle's chair, she looked down at grim and dingy chair filled with chains that would soon hold a captive.

Pansy Parkinson appeared so expeditiously in front of her, Hermione almost swore she had flown. The woman's green eyes glistened as she forced a fake smile and looked at Hermione's left hand. The ring seem to shine in her eyes. Pansy looked up suddenly and stared at both Hermione and Draco.

"I've just heard the news, yesterday." she aforesaid, quite contradicted. "Congratulations, you're quite lucky, Our Lord has been so...understanding," she dragged her eyes back to Hermione, who only gazed.

"Thank you, we're quite happy," Draco said putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders, making Pansy tear her eyes away from the girl and look at him in a astonishingly virulent look. She nodded only and then left to take her seat in the audience. Hermione's face writhed in confusion for only a moment, then she gazed at Draco.

"They don't know, do they? Not one of them knows this is contrived?" her voice was almost a dream-like state. Draco brushed a few strands of hair from his face and grinned at someone who had just passed by and nodded a hello

"It's on a need-to-know basis. Only people taking part of the plan, and our future guards, who were standing in the throne room, know." Malfoy explained in a susurration. Hermione forced a smile for a passer by.

"Lovely," she said. The court room suddenly quieted and a hooded figure strode in through the door. Tom Riddle removed his cloak and sat on the highest chair. He smiled brightly at the Death Eaters who arched to him. Then he took Hermione's hand in his and smiled.

"I trust, your trip was pleasing, my dear?" Hermione shivered. It was more terrifying seeing the source of all evil treating her like his daughter than having him throw constant curses at her.

"Quite," was the only response Hermione managed to make. Riddle let go of her hand and turned to face the crowd and the chair of the incriminated. Hermione felt Malfoy grab hold of her hand and run his thumb past it in an assuasive manner.

She was quite aware that Malfoy was demonstrating their _love_ for the others, however she also had the formidable perception that he was trying to decompress her and make her placid. Either way she was appreciative of someone's hand to hold, no matter whose it was.

The door to their right opened and Death Eaters walked in dragging a pillaged man, whom looked like had been consumed alive. He was decrepit and cadaverous, pallid, with drawn-out dark hair that made him looked deranged. A peculiar tattoo conveyed a circular symbol with miss-matched triangles up his cheek and Hermione wondered where in the world she had ended up.

It took no more than a few seconds to have the man bound up in the chair, he didn't budge much, Hermione guessed he knew all to well that the effort would be futile. The man in the dark hair looked up into her eyes, she could see that in his, nothing more than hatred flowed. He spat in her direction and it took no more than this occurrence for a cruciatus curse to be put upon him for a few seconds.

Hermione bit away her gasp. Had the Death Eaters really just tortured someone who had tried to spit on her? Tortured someone among their ranks, because of a muggle born like her? She was at a loss for words, it was more than the order had definitely done for her. The voice that came next brushed away her thoughts.

"Gregory Hallow, you are on trial for the attempted murder of Hermione Granger," Riddle said in a joking hiss, "how do you plead?" A unison chortle filled the room. Everyone was aware, that this was a mere role play game and that it wouldn't really matter, not in the end.

Hermione swallowed hard, when had he tried to kill her? Had she really not noticed? She had felt like the last few months had been so nonbelligerent. Maybe she had been fallacious. She looked at Draco who's face was once again frozen of any kind of emotion, she squeezed his hand. The soft touch broke his spell and pulled his eyes towards her. Hermione's face showed befuddlement, Draco's eyes saddened a bit.

He explained swiftly that last week there had been a break-in at the Manor, during the night. The suspect had rapidly traveled to Hermione's room with the intention of killing her. Fortunately, that night Hermione had fallen asleep in the library during her search for a curse-breaking spell. The suspect dumbfounded continued on his search for Hermione around the manor and was intercepted and arrested by the guards before Hermione had even awoken.

Chills rushed up Hermione's spine leaving goosebumps on her flesh. It was bad enough knowing she had almost been killed and never even knew, she didn't exactly know how to deal with the fact that Death Eaters had saved her life.

She felt Draco give her a supporting squeeze on the hand and turned around only in time to hear the very man who had tried to take her life away shriek in choler how he refused to live in a world that would soon be ruled by a mudblood.

Hermione flinched at the word but Voldemort laughed. "As you wish," he muttered with a guileful smile on his face. It was with these last words that Tom Riddle lifted his wand and whispered in a strangely soothing voice "Avada Kedavra."

There was a flash of green light and then only a dead weight body on the chair. A black silk blanket covered the body as it was levitated and carried through the air. The atmosphere darkened considerably. Hermione gulped, it was an eye for an attempted eye, it seemed.

–

It was on that night that Hermione had learned her grandness at the manor. Whether she had been denying it, or just chose not to see it, was irrelevant now. For the truth was, if they had tortured a man for trying to spit on her and killed him for wanting her dead, then she had to be of the utmost importance. After all, you didn't rip your soul into another piece, and you sure didn't waste time and energy (something Hermione had realized was of value with these people) on someone who was worthless.

Hermione sat on the drawn-out dinner table with Draco on her right side. She had grown habitual to this arrangement as it would repeat itself every night. She and Draco would sit on the left side of the table facing the oak doors of the dining room, Tom Riddle would sit at the head of the table. Tonight however, they were still unaccompanied. Hermione had once felt concerned that when Riddle wasn't near them, he was out doing direful Stygian things. This knowledge no longer bothered her anymore. This life had become her own, she had grown so accustomed to it, she didn't remember anything before it.

Hermione had begun to learn that she could use her importance for some good around the manor. She tried out her theory with small things at first. Getting Diana a new dress. When her wishes were complied with she moved on to getting the girl actual meals, so that she didn't have to share hers with the famished girl.

It wasn't long before Diana had her own room, with every relish a twelve-year-old girl would love, until she had books and all the Herbology tools she wished for. Never, in her twelve-years of life, had Diana had so much to be grateful for. Soon people started to treat her well, almost as if they had forgotten she was a mere muggle-born that had been sacrificed at war.

It was this fact that Malfoy was currently remarking with her at supper.

"I just don't understand it," he chortled. "You can have anything you want, you know you can. Have anyone do anything for you. But you've only transformed the young girl's life, you haven't improved yours in the slightest." Hermione knew Draco always chose his words wisely when referring to Diana as not to offend her.

Hermione sighed. "I don't need to," she said, "This is the best I've lived in years. She needs it more than I do," Malfoy was about to respond when the oak doors of the dining room opened and Tom Riddle walked in. He looked exhausted, Hermione couldn't withdraw her eyes from the lines that covered his face.

"My Lord," she said, it had become a custom to call him this, in the last few weeks, Riddle had been training her, making her feel powerful. Giving her guidance, sneaking into her mind when she allowed him to and extinguishing her worries. He had been almost a father to her, when she missed her own so much.

Voldemort looked up at her with a anemic smile. "Don't worry my dear, everything is well." he said. "I merely believe that, now that you have been here for quite a few months, that it is time that we announce your engagement to the rest of the wizarding world. I have been out making all these preparations these last two months. Changing laws that needed changing, finding loop-holes in my own logic, but now we are ready."

Hermione felt Draco's body tense near hers. It was true that neither of them was prompt for such a public display. The most they had come in contact with was that courtroom, where everyone was more fixed on the death of the inmate than on her relationship with Malfoy.

"There should probably be a ball," Voldemort stated, his voice stressing his grave disfavor of the idea. "The women can gossip and the men...can do what ever the hell they feel like," he continued. The soon-to-be-wed couple nodded only. There were no words that would allow either of them to say anything minimally clever.

–

_Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger_

_Are proud to announce their engagement!_

_A Commemorate Ball shall be celebrated on 24th of December_

_Join us on such a grand occasion._

_We await your owl no later than the 10th of December._

Dark gloves crumpled up the invitation that they held. The names made him sick, the invitation even more so. How could they ever, how would the Dark Lord even allow such a thing? The man behind the gloves sighed, his appearance had changed into an unrecognizable being since anyone had really ever seen him again.

He stared at his nude muscular body in the mirror, each piece of his body had been well crafted and prepared for the night that would soon arrive. He ran a hand through his body, every inch was well toned and sculpted, like a Greek statue. He smiled. His hair was pail white and his irises dark with tiny red circles around them, effects of having been closed up in hiding for so long.

But he had fought, had grown, had made himself, what he was today. He had prepared, conserved energy for all the right exercises, and he had planned. Planned and waited, and now his plan was slowly putting itself into action.

He turned on the shower, letting the hot vapor encircle the room and himself, fogging up the mirror he had been staring at just a few moments ago. The man than stepped into the steaming shower, letting the burning water strip away any dirt and sins from his flesh.

It had been years since he had seen the people he was anxiously waiting to meet. He would show them, he would show them how well he could take them down. They would pay for their sins. How he despised everyone of them. They who paraded around as such grand people, they who cursed the world with their magic and called themselves elite, because others could not fight. They who had left the poor and defenseless to starve, that had begun the Social Darwinism that had made the society collapse in front of them. Those who ate in their beautiful dining tables and had engagement balls while he sat in this stone room for years, preparing.

They, who called themselves powerful, did not understand God and what true power was. They would soon burn in hell for their sins, they would realize that Satan had burdened them with these gifts they so happily assumed as natural. Maybe God would find mercy for those who showed penitence in their waking hour. Those who would not deny their father when their meeting moment arrived.

The man stared at the mirror once more, wiping away the fog. His pale milky skin color was enough to send chills up anyone's spine. His eyes traveled from his bleached hair to the pale contorted face of vengeance that had become his natural expression. He wondered lower through his body, admiring his carved chest and his bulging manhood that had been cleansed and reborn when he had found God. His legs were muscled and strong, he smiled at his pure perfection. He was ready, and soon the moment would be as well.

_Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven _

–

Hermione stared at her figure in the mirror, the dress she had to admit was beautiful. Made of a cream colored beige fabric it flowed softly down towards he feet. It had only one strap in her right shoulder and the small and almost unnoticeable sparkling diamonds that covered her chest gave it a touch of innocent feminism. She admitted that she loved the dress, hated the pins poking into her skin as she got fitted.

"Ouch," she grumbled as her tailor struggled to mark her dress. Neither of them had much patience for each other anymore, Hermione hated standing still and the tailor hated impossible people. It was a relief for both then, when the last pin was in place and the dress was magically removed from Hermione. She quickly dressed herself once more as the seamstress took down all the measurements she had so carefully picked up so that she could tailor the dress that night.

Hermione invited Diana to stand on the small stool where she had just stood a few minutes ago. The seamstress was surprised at this move but complied, non the less, with the mistresses wishes and took some measurements. Diana's eyes went round as she saw Hermione pull out a large box and opening it in front of her. Inside there was a small dress, identical in color to Hermione's, it bulged down to the knees, had two large shoulder straps, and bright red ribbon to tie around the waist.

Diana had never been more delighted to try something on in her life, for having been born in the year the war had started, she had never seen such a beautiful thing, let alone own it. The tailor was much happier with Diana's fitting, the young girl stood still for a good hour as she placed the pins on the dress and took down every measurement to be changed.

Hermione grinned in delight as she saw that her small surprise had been effective in making Diana's day. When Diana had removed the dress, with a tang of regret, she quickly dressed herself in one of her new winter clothes that had also been a gift from Hermione.

The young girl raced up to the now twenty-nine-year-old and hugged her like she had never hugged anyone before. Neither aware that they were being watched by a blond who stood by the door. Draco Malfoy gulped slightly.

There was something inside him that was not right, he was well aware of the fact that if any happiness had reached the manor in the last few months, Hermione was the reason. She brightened the room whenever she walked in, her smile was contagious and her giving manner made her more than likeable. Draco had even found himself wanting to grab her arm and pull her closer to him, just to feel her yielding warmth.

He shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. There was definitely something very wrong inside him. He was spotted by Hermione whom he could have sworn almost grinned at him. His stomach turned a bit and he frowned and grumbled to himself. Then looking back up to Hermione he realized she had already looked away and was merrily chatting away with the young girl about the ball.

Malfoy turned around and headed toward his study. Once he had shut himself inside it, he almost felt safe to think the unsanitary thoughts that occurred to him every time he saw Hermione. She had grown so accustomed to his presence, that it seemed she had thrown away all inhibitions. She often changed clothes in front of him. Every time this would happen, Malfoy would force himself not to look, but her figure called his eyes and it was no use, a pleasurable ache filled his system and groin, tearing his eyes away from her once more.

Malfoy paced around the study. Could he be developing feelings for the woman he was going to marry in a few months time? He laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that thought and the pure irony. Pouring himself a whiskey and sitting on his couch he sighed. He made the decision to not worry about it. It seemed like they had an eternity to figure out this problem, at this moment he would just enjoy his whiskey.


	4. Delta

**First, I'd like to thank those who reviewed my last chapters, have added my story to their favorite's list and their alert list, and lastly to those who have added myself to their favorite and alert list. You flatter me. I do hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

–

There was certain circumstantial information about the scene that was playing at the moment, that everyone must know. Hermione Granger was not one to throw fits, in fact, she had never in her life stomped her foot when she wanted sweets, or thrown things when she was angry, and she most certainly did not blow up anyone like a balloon. She had always been a calm-headed bemused girl.

So those who didn't know what lay behind Hermione's mind at the moment, couldn't possibly imagine that she was calm and concentrated. Voldemort realized it.

"Stop, stop, stop," Tom Riddle's voice called out. The vase that was flying across the room shattered into pieces on the floor. Hermione's brooded. Malfoy tried to keep his laughing negligible. "You're too concentrated, too starchy. This power flows autonomously in you, Hermione. Let it go. Get angry, think of things that make you infuriated, and then focus what you feel in your veins on an object."

Hermione sighed, she didn't think she would ever get this right. Evil power just didn't seem natural to her, no matter how much of it was part of her nature. She sulked and tried again, this time, the table she picked up oscillated only an instant and set on the floor again. Hermione grunted, she hated failing, no matter where or what she was focusing her energy on.

Riddle sighed and sat on his throne. "Malfoy, your turn." he said in such a uninterested tone, one might think he would soon fall dormant.

Malfoy stood in Hermione's position, his eyes grew black almost instantly, a share of wind and energy pilfered his hair and clothes back and the table in front of him lifted. Malfoy felt a want, a need, a thirst for more energy, more power, the table crashed against the wall, windows opened and the algid November air rushed in, hitting them all like like sharp knifes. Malfoy was loosing grip, he turned everywhere looking for energy to suck. His eyes lay on Voldemort.

Hermione perceived his thirst build up in her veins, running like she had never done before, she raced toward Malfoy and tackled him to the ground. Her touch was blistering, burning his veins of the thirst, Malfoy's eyes turned back to grey and all that was left was a certain calming agitation.

Voldemort breathed out. It was times like these that he was thankful for having prearranged their lessons to be together. Although he had never mentioned it out loud, it was obvious, to him, that he could never compete with the couple's instinctive power. Not since he had gathered up all the horcruxes after war.

"Maybe it's best if we leave it at this, for tonight," he said. Hermione and Draco nodded in unison. Helping Malfoy's now weakened body to get up, Hermione felt a certain tingle in her stomach as his head heaped on her shoulder and his breath touched her neck.

Voldemort saw the struggle and more than that, saw the look in Hermione's eyes as she had saved Malfoy. He knew it was time, pulling something from his robe he walked toward Hermione and unceremoniously handed her, her wand. Hermione's eyes widened, although this seemed like a feeble act to Voldemort who easily strode out of the room right after it, to Hermione it meant everything. Not only was she sure, she had gained the Dark Lord's trust, she had been reunited with her long lost friend. Performing a levitation charm on Malfoy she carried him to her room, realizing only as she climbed up the stairs, that she had no idea where Malfoy's room was. A thought that disturbed her as she had lived here for quite a few months now.

Hermione lay him carefully on the bed, covering him and making sure he was breathing correctly, before she too, exhausted as always after lessons, sunk down next to him and drifted off.

–

A staggering light blinded Hermione for a moment and she, disorientated, covered her eyes with the blankets. That's when she remembered when she had drifted off. Malfoy stirred next to her, turning and opening his eyes, staring widely as if confused, then composing himself as if it was nothing new and he could remain calm. Hermione smiled, for a few instants she had seen the look of panic in his eyes before he had realized they had merely slept next to one another. She didn't know why this amused her so much, but the truth was that it did.

"Sorry I passed out," Malfoy said, his voice was groggy from having woken up recently.

"That's alright," Hermione replied. "At least I got my wand back," she smiled.

"Did you?" Malfoy smiled as well. Somehow her smile made his appear. It brightened up his mood always.

Hermione nodded pointing at the magical stick that meant everything to her. A bit of comfort and home in the midst of all the changes of the past months. They both relaxed into the pillows and Hermione felt Malfoy's foot touch hers ever so slightly. She swallowed hard, she was not expecting this. But as quickly as she had felt it, it was gone. She reasoned it had been an accident and as soon as he had realized it, he had taken his foot back into it's original position, yes, that must have been it.

Hermione looked at the clock that stood on the far end of the room, it read seven am. Had they really been knocked out for so long? The door of the room slowly creaked open, a tiny voice sounded from it.

"Mione? I had a nightmare again." It was Diana, once in a while the child would have nightmares of different things that had happened to her. Hermione always allowed her to climb into her bed. As Diana stepped into the room, she immediately turned red, Draco's presence in the room, was definitely not something she had anticipated.

Hermione stood shocked, not sure how to explain to the young girl what exactly what was going on. Draco laughed it off.

"Come here," he said, his voice was not hard or cold like in other times but rather smooth and in a soft-like whisper. Diana obeyed, for once, not because she was scared of Mr. Malfoy, but because she felt safe enough to come closer. He pulled her onto the bed and placed her in between him and Hermione.

"What's this about a nightmares?" he asked, caressing her hair in a fatherly-like way. Diana snuggled close under the blankets. Hermione stood starstruck.

"It always starts out the same, it's dark and I'm alone," Diana explained. "And I become scared." Draco placed an arm around her and pulled her closer to his warm body.

"It was just a dream, don't worry. You're safe now and you'll never be alone again. You'll always have Mione...and me," he added, not sure what on earth had possessed him to do the things he was doing now, but he didn't care, he felt like he should.

Hermione smiled coyly and lay back down onto the bed, tickling Diana until she got a laugh out of her.

"Draco's right, Diana, you'll always have us. You'll always be safe. I promise." she whispered, almost drifting back to sleep.

"Draco?" Malfoy repeated as if he was unsure he had heard correctly. Hermione drifted off.

–

Tom Riddle was not known to be surprised very often. So the look that was plastered on his face as he saw a young child sitting on the table that usually contained three people, bemused Hermione. Riddle sat in his usual seat, letting one of the servants pour him his coffee and serve him his breakfast.

"I see we have guest," he said in questioning tone. Diana stood still, afraid she had done something wrong and would be punished. Hermione explained carefully who the girl was, and that she would like her to sit at the table with them during meals.

"You have grown fond of this child?" Voldemort inquired. Hermione confirmed the inquisition. Voldemort sat back and observed the young girl, who had intelligibly decided that these were adult matters to be discussed and had gone back to her breakfast. "She was a gift to help take care of you," Voldemort said slowly as if confused but not in an insulted tone.

"Yes," confirmed Hermione, "But I am perfectly able to take care of myself, and I think of her almost as a...daughter," Hermione concluded, slightly surprised of how true these words were to her. She liked Diana's company and she had become quite protective of her, almost like a mother to a child.

Diana looked up at this, she had never had a mother, hers had been killed when she was just a baby. She didn't know what to think at this moment. She didn't know if she felt towards Hermione what one should feels towards their mother, then again she didn't know what one was supposed to feel towards their mother. She imagined, from all the books she had read, that it must be a strong love and caring, that she should want nothing but good for her. If this was the case, then yes, she imagined Hermione had become a mother to her.

Voldemort stared around the room, gathering information from what he saw. He then turned towards Draco.

"And what is your opinion on this issue?" he asked him. Draco looked at Hermione and Diana, both their smiles stirred something in stomach, he suddenly felt like he would be the decisive one here. Draco turned back to his Lord.

"I sort of like the kid." he winked at Diana who tried not to chuckle "I don't see why having her around at meals would be so bad." then he casually went back to his breakfast as if nothing had happened. Tom Riddle's eyebrows froze in a very confused look. He could see the potential this child could have in bringing the two adults closer together to fulfill his plan. He liked that idea very much.

"Then it's settled, the girl can stay," and it was with these small words that both Hermione and Diana breathed in relief, Draco felt like he had done well, and Voldemort planned their next step.

–

December twenty-fourth came quickly and the manor was filled with decorations for the engagement ball that was to come that night. Hermione paced nervously in her room, unsure of how to act tonight. It was true that she had grown fonder of Draco and their spending time together had made it so that both more comfortable. She was still unsure if she could face the entire dark wizarding world, filled with pure bloods that hated her, staring.

This was obvious to Draco who sat reading in a chair in the corner of the room. He placed the book down and got up. He grabbed Hermione's hands. A flash of energy out pour in both of them. Hermione stared at him unsure of what to do.

"Hermione, I'm going to be by your side the whole time, and they'll be guards protecting you at all moments, besides, most of the people who were invited follow every last word the Dark Lord commands, and if he accepts this marriage, they'll find some fault in their own logic so that it is acceptable. Hermione sighed.

"I hope so," she said. Malfoy kissed her forehead. Hermione felt goosebumps rise up her spine and her arms.

"I have to go get dressed, please stop worrying," he said in his most caring voice. Hermione nodded to let his fears disappear. Malfoy turned to walk out of the room.

"Hey Draco?" Hermione said, he turned around with an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Thanks for letting Diana stay the other day." she said. Malfoy smiled and nodded in recognition, then he walked out. Hermione sighed, it wasn't long until her tailor had arrived in her room and was fitting Hermione into her dress.

It was made of a cream colored beige fabric and flowed softly down towards he feet. It had only one strap in her right shoulder and the small and almost unnoticeable sparkling diamonds that covered her chest gave it a touch of innocent feminism.

Thankfully for both Hermione and the tailor who still did not like each other very much, the dress still fit perfectly and for that reason, neither had to waste much time on it. Hermione's hair was tamed by witched whom Voldemort had hired, and her makeup done easily in brown tones.

Placing on her shoes and jewelry, all of which was made of pure gold, Hermione sighed looking in the mirror. She was beautiful, but she felt slightly uncomfortable with such expensive treatment. She looked out of her wall-sized window and noticed that night had fallen upon them. Outside the fields were covered with hovering candles that still flickered as if untouched by the snow that hadn't stopped falling since morning. Carriages were already arriving and people dressed beautifully made their way up the steps of the manor into the welcoming hall.

There was a knock on the door and as Hermione turned around she saw Diana's head pop up. The young girl's hair was beautifully done in a fashion that was suitable for a ten-year-old. She was dressed in a color identical to Hermione's, the dress contained two large shoulder straps, it bulged down to her knees with a big red ribbon tied around her waist. Diana talked about how she had never felt more beautiful. Hermione laughed, pleased that her present was liked.

There was another knock on the door, this time, Draco showed up, dressed in a black ribbon-tie suit that suited him well, and a black dress cloak. He smiled and gasped a bit when staring at Hermione. She looked beautiful, her eyes seemed much more intense than normally. Diana ran to him and hugged him. He picked her up and commented on how beautiful she looked before putting her back down.

Hermione grinned at this small exchange between the adult and the child. Draco then looked up at her, telling her it was show time and handing her, his hand to take. Hermione accepted his hand as she saw Diana run to join the guest in the ball.

Draco and Hermione walked towards the staircase as their name was announced. Everyone stopped to look, the piano man began to play an elegant tune as Hermione and Draco made their way down the staircase, arms intertwined, all eyes on them. Draco gave Hermione's hand a small squeeze, letting her know that she need not be nervous, he was there. Hermione relaxed and smiled as she reached the last step. People immediately showed up to congratulate them on their engagement and compliment Hermione's dress and her more importantly, her ring.

It wasn't long until people started to enjoy themselves and left Hermione to rest a bit. Draco excused himself for a moment to speak to someone. Hermione no longer felt alone in the room filled with strange menacing people, all mingling as if none of the past years events had ever happened. Hermione scanned her room but stopped staring at some girls who were picking on Diana and her dress. The young girl looked right about ready to cry, Hermione frowned ready to start scolding them all.

Draco who was staring at Hermione from afar noticed this and followed her eyes. His eyebrows furrowed. He made his way towards the girls. Hermione noticing Malfoy's intervention, stopped, curious. Draco Malfoy was much taller than the young girls, and seeing him make their way towards them, they immediately ceased their teasing.

"Annabelle Parkinson Maldive," Malfoy said. The young girl's green eyes shined at Draco with the same sparkle as her mother's.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" she said cunningly in the most innocent voice possible. It was no secret that Annabelle had inherited more than her mother's green eyes, but rather most of her habits and love for Malfoy. Draco cared to think that was what came with being raised by very young mother.

"Why don't we try to be nice to Diana here, I like her. Besides you wouldn't want me to tell the Dark Lord that you are poking fun at his favorite little child?" he said creating a bit of jealousy in the young girl. Annabelle's eyes widened to the size of tennis balls.

"No, Mr. Malfoy," she said placing her hands behind her small figure and rotating her right foot on her tippy toes as if she were ashamed.

"Good," said Malfoy, "Now run along and play nicely," he finished, deciding that his first fatherly discussion had gone quite well. The young girls ran away as if they had been best friend's from the moment they were born. Malfoy took two drinks from the waiter carrying them and walked up to Hermione handing one to her. She smiled and accepted it.

"Thanks," she said knowing she didn't have to explain what it was that she was referring too. Malfoy nodded knowing she had nothing to thank him for. They both looked around awkwardly before realizing the were supposed to look like a very in love couple.

Draco offered Hermione his hand to dance, which she took eagerly, glad that she didn't just have to stand in the middle room like an idiot. The ballad that played was soft and agile and Hermione felt herself swirling across the dance floor with Malfoy as if it were the most natural thing on earth, even if her head still bashed a little everytime she remembered being barred up in the dungeons. It seemed as if the moment was everything but perfect in everyone's eyes.

Then a window crashed and cold fluttered into the room.


End file.
